Just as Winter gave way to Spring, and Spring to an impromptu Summer, school is back and giving off an Autumn air. Now that I’m back, it seems as though there are a lot of blanks to be filled in since last I’ve soliloquized. It’s impossible to do this summer justice with a quick recap, but I suppose I’m just foolhardy enough to try.
A microcosm of a good portion of my summer as seen through the frame of Lou's snout.
I felt it while I was living it, and in retrospect I concur: this was the most meaningful and educational Summer I have yet been privileged with. After touching base with the lovely denizens of my home-place I settled into life on Cerridwen Farm, Green Mountain’s very own on-campus sustainable agriculture system. I worked as a farmhand from 7am to 5pm most days and spent my down time getting to know the Poultney-Mettowee Watershed better, developing the biofuel project, and deepening friendships. I was put up for free in one of the dorms as part of the package but spent maybe one-third of the nights in my tent abreast the span of river just behind our hayfields.
Here is a glimpse of our Lower Acre. It was as untamed as the thick meadows seen bordering it here; now it boasts enough of biointensively cultivated polyculture to provide a few thousand pounds of pure yum and nutrition.
It’s impossible to relate all that I learned over this time period without being outright dull, so here’s the gist of some of the more provocative findings I came across:
-potato beetle larvae is spicy (thank you Darren)
-there is no more beautiful sensation then pushing soil over a seed and fifty days later pulling a dew-covered pepper off of its crisp stem
-passing your days as a midwife for Earth puts you on a wonderful biorhythm that allows you to be awake for and truly appreciate all a day has to offer
-to grow enough food for Earth’s 6.6b people (save for those in the Arctic and whatnot) on a regional scale in a sustainable manner would be incredibly labor intensive, but virtually eliminate unemployment and vastly increase the quality of life for individuals while reconstructing communities in industrialized and developing nations alike
-Community Supported Agriculture is the only way I want to get food from here on out, save for what I am able to produce myself
-through events like East Poultney Days and especially SolarFest, I learned just how profound the impact of a community’s solidarity can be
And here is our Old Acre. Though the view of our garden plots are obstructed in the middle ground, this shot depicts the depth of this Acre well and showcases some of our structures.
While I could certainly go on, these pretty much cover most of what’s on my mind presently. The latter bulleted points in particular allude to what I see as the most important theme of my summer—and of everyone’s lives whether or not we realize it: Community.
Community was the consist, omnipresent element of my summer that made it the indispensable joy that it was. I worked side by side with the wonderful capable peoples that are Allie, Irene and Annie, not to mention Bill and Lou. We were led from may through early July by Darren: a good friend and capable farmer who just graduated this past Winter from GMC. After Darren finished his duration as interim manager, Kenneth Mulder entered the scene with his beautiful family of three little boys (Ziki, Oebidiah, and Thaddeus), his daughter Meme-Beth, and wife Emily.
Through the wholesome potlucks we had—often with our CSA members—late summer’s pickling and jamming excursions, trips to Fairs, and a wide range of conversations I was dosed with what life was essentially like (though not entirely) for the majority of humans who’ve lived through the last 10,000 of our agricultural tradition—maybe I’ll play it safe and say the last 300 years. The numbers don’t matter so much, but what was elemental to me was that this mode of life was so much more fulfilling and gratifying than the one prescribed by contemporary American society with its perverse interpretations of wealth and overemphasis on individualism.